


i slithered here from eden just to sit outside your door

by Suchagayhumanbeing



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Spencer Reid, Sad Spencer Reid, Tragedy, basically a poem, im bad at tagging, minor character death for context, season 8 episode 13, takes place after Maeve’s death, when Spencer locks himself in his apartment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26063908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suchagayhumanbeing/pseuds/Suchagayhumanbeing
Summary: After Maeve Dovovan’s death, Spencer locks himself in his apartment. JJ can feel him slipping away, she can feel him constructing walls to keep her away. This is what he does best.
Relationships: Spencer Reid & Jennifer Jareau, Spencer Reid & The BAU Team
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	i slithered here from eden just to sit outside your door

**Author's Note:**

> hey gang. this is basically a poem JJ writes to Spencer, plus some (very one-sided) dialogue and extras. hope you enjoy! leave a comment with some feedback if you want <3

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” 

JJ’s soft voice barely pierced the thin door that separated Spencer Reid’s trashed apartment, and salvation. The warm arms of a sympathetic friend, yet never quite understanding. Perhaps that’s what he needed right now. Someone who didn’t understand. Someone who could whisper “I’m sorry, but I don’t get it, I don’t understand what you’re going through.” He needed that, so he could think “Good. I don’t want you to feel this. I’m the one suffering, and I need to shield you from this.”

He needed to save someone. 

“Look at how that turned out last time.” His brain snickered. “You don’t deserve anything you want.”  
Spencer let a tear slip from his eyes, and JJ’s sympathetic voice continued.

“I can feel you slipping away, Spence. I can see the walls you’re building already, and I need you to let me in. Let the team in. You don’t have to hide from us.”

He wanted to apologize. The words “I’m sorry” were already on his lips, ready to be repeated like a prayer. Each tear was filled with words left unsaid, fantasies left abandoned, broken promises covered in blood. 

Spencer cried wordlessly. 

“I’m sorry, Spencer.” JJ sighed, ripping his apologies from his lips, the words coming easily to her. “I’m so sorry.”

The rustle of a paper, a moment of silence, and then the fading footsteps of the one who loved him the most.

—————

Spencer laid in despairing quiet for the rest of the night. His phone rang 15 times in 24 hours, blissfully dying on the twenty-fourth hour.

——————

Later, when Reid finally got off the couch to satisfy his gnawing hunger, he saw the flash of white amidst a sea of broken book spines and his wooden floor. 

He wandered over, kicking the mess he’d created to clear a path. 

JJ had slid a note under his door.

“Spence,” It read.  
“Perhaps you were made for tragedy. Perhaps you were destined to cry these tears, to feel this pain, to live through this misery. Is it fate? Destiny? Was Atlas’ burden made for you? Were you made to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders? Could you ever have been happy?

Oh, honey, I know you think no one sees those dried tears, that broken mask, those exhausted eyebags. I know you ignore the concerned looks, the whispered reassurances, the never-ending gifts. 

I know you think they will go away if you ignore them. 

I know you think you will never be happy.  
I know you think the overwhelming grief and guilt will be your life now, your entire being.

Perhaps you are afraid of what will be left if the adversity is gone. 

I know you feel life is against you.  
The world, plotting to destroy your happiness.  
No matter how illogical,  
I know what you feel. 

You carry the weight of Atlas in other’s sins,  
And they chisel at the very tragedy-soaked foundations that hold you. 

Your broken body keens under this pressure,  
Under the self-inflicted torture you mask.  
Your breaking mind suddenly no longer organized,  
But full of nightmares and fog. 

Please, Spencer, open the door.  
I know you’re there. 

I can feel you trying to reach out, stopped only by your own guilt and need to protect others from your burdens. 

I can’t force you to open the door. I can’t force you to accept my help; the team’s.  
I can only promise I’ll be waiting when you do. 

(No one can hold up the weight of the world forever.)

Signed,  
JJ”


End file.
